


While My Guitar Gently Weeps

by sassywitch (itsacapitalday)



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-05-20
Updated: 2007-05-20
Packaged: 2017-10-21 22:51:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/230731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsacapitalday/pseuds/sassywitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is a ficlet i wrote some time ago from a song prompt provided by <a href="http://celtprincess13.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://celtprincess13.livejournal.com/"><b>celtprincess13</b></a>.</p>
    </blockquote>





	While My Guitar Gently Weeps

**Author's Note:**

> This is a ficlet i wrote some time ago from a song prompt provided by [](http://celtprincess13.livejournal.com/profile)[**celtprincess13**](http://celtprincess13.livejournal.com/).

_**FICLET: While My Guitar Gently Weeps (1/1)**_  
TITLE: While My Guitar Gently Weeps  
AUTHOR: sassywitch  
PAIRING: BB/DM  
RATING: PG  
FEEDBACK: Is like Chocolate for my soul.  
DISCLAIMER: Don't own them. Never happened.  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is a ficlet i wrote some time ago from a song prompt provided by [](http://celtprincess13.livejournal.com/profile)[**celtprincess13**](http://celtprincess13.livejournal.com/).

  
Billy walked slowly through the house. It was a short tour really, the house was small,just like the ones that surrounded it. A single level sheetrock building with three bedrooms, the master faced the white sandy beach and the living room shared the lanai with it. His eyes misted as he paused in the kitchen, his fingers tracing carefully over the front of the fridge.

It was beyond absurd to be moved to tears by white goods, but the front of the huge refrigerator held ten years of memories. Not the contents, although it held only half filled take out containers of Thai and Chinese and a box with a half eaten crusty pizza that had seen the both of them through the last week. Not to mention the remains of the beer they’d been working hard on demolishing. No, it was the collage representing the biggest mistake he’d ever made that twisted at his gut and knifed through his soul.

Small fingers traced the aging photos carefully. Dom had kept them all, from the very first picture they had taken together, holiday pictures, premieres and parties, right to the picture the paparazzi had taken of them just the last week. Dom had been trawling the internet and found the picture of the two of them at the local juice bar. Neither of them had known the photographer was there, they had laughed over it when they had seen the picture on the screen.

That had been the turning point for Billy he realized. They never should have started this, Dom deserved better, he deserved to be free to pursue whichever young starlet caught his eye, not wait for his aging boyfriend to visit. His calloused fingertips traced Dom’s image in the newest photo. This had been a mistake from the start, not that it ever felt like it, it still didn’t, but that didn’t make it any less of a mistake. That was why it had to end, and it had to end tonight.

There must have been at least a hundred photos clipped to the front of the fridge. Billy looked at them all and carefully slipped a photo out from under a larger photo of the both of them together in their hobbit robes. It was a black and white shot of Dom when he was younger and so much more vulnerable than he was now. A battered white straw cowboy hat perched on his head, his eyes wide and blue. Then he would never have recovered from what Billy was about to do, now he was more resilient, more jaded, more self assured. Now he would survive. Billy slid the picture into his pocket, he’d always loved that picture.

Unable to look at the rest of the photos without tearing up, Billy turned and walked out of the kitchen and continued his inspection of the house, his left hand trailing across the wall as he walked, reluctant to break his tangible contact with the house that held so many memories. Pausing in the bathroom, he watched himself in the mirror for long moments before he opened the cabinet behind the mirror and let his fingertips trail across the assorted bottles and jars that were stored there. Lifting a bottle of shampoo he flicked the top open with his thumb and inhaled deeply of the green apple scent that clung to Dom like a second skin.

Swallowing the sharp sting of tears, Billy pushed the shampoo back into the cabinet so quickly the bottles beside it swung like skittles glanced by a bowling ball. He lifted both hands to protect them from falling before he pushed the door closed abruptly.

Walking into the master bedroom he stood drinking in the sight of his lover hungrily. Laying sprawled across the bed, one hand under the pillow the other hanging off the bed, fingertips brushing across the carpet, his head resting on the edge of the mattress, the wrinkled sheet barely covering the gentle curve of his ass, Billy couldn’t withhold the choking emotion any longer, tears long captured by his lashes began trickling down his pallid cheeks as he blinked rapidly.

Padding silently to the side of the bed, Billy sat on the very edge of the bed, his hip nestled against Dom’s. His calloused fingertips brushed across Dom’s shoulder and down his spine, smoothing the hairs at the small of his back and tracing back up again. Dom stirred, his head turning towards Billy on the pillow and Billy’s fingers lifted as if burned. He couldn’t do this if Dom was awake. He prayed to all the God’s he knew and some that he didn’t for Dom to drift back to sleep.

“S’time to get up?” Dom slurred sleepily, his eyes still closed.

“No, it’s early.” Billy crooned.

"Again?" Dom murmured, his hand groping blindly for Billy's.

"Later," Billy whispered, “Go back to sleep.”

“Come back to bed.” Dom murmured already almost asleep again.

“I will soon.” Billy lied, squeezing his eyes shut to withhold tears he couldn’t afford to shed, his fingers brushed over Dom’s too long hair as he leaned forward to press a kiss against his forehead. “Just wanted to get up and play for a while.”

“Playmesomething…” Dom drawled as he drifted off to sleep.

Billy stood, feeling older than his years as he turned to lift his guitar from the corner of the room. Sitting on the chair in the corner, Billy rested the instrument on his knee and began to slowly strum the strings, his fingers sliding across them instinctively. Without even intending to he played familiar notes, he opened his mouth to sing and snapped it shut again, but his fingers picked out the same notes over and over again until he opened his mouth and familiar words haltingly spilled from his lips.

The crooning lyrics faltered as he sang of love and lilac wine, his voice barely more than a whisper, his eyes never leaving the sight of Dom sprawled all over the bed. Images of their lovemaking long into the night filling his mind as he sang.

As his fingers plucked the final notes of the song, his voice choked with his tears and he rose and put the guitar on the seat. Glancing around the room quickly, ensuring the only part of him left in the house was the hastily scrawled note on the bedside table and his guitar. The same guitar Dom had given him their first Christmas together. Walking out the door, he pulled it closed behind him. Lifting his suitcase, he walked slowly down the driveway and out of Dom’s life.


End file.
